In the Light of the Moon
by CatS81
Summary: A mis-timed investigation in the woods could spell disaster...or revelation for two particular members of the CCU...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'Waking the Dead' or any of its characters, the BBC has that honour – I'm just taking them out to play for a bit.

**Pairing**: Boyd/Grace.

**Rating**: T, for language and adult themes.

**Spoilers**: Slight mention of the events of S8's 'Endgame'. This is set somewhere between S8 and S9 but before the arrival of Sarah Cavendish.

**A/N**: So, this is my first foray back into the fanfic world after an unintentional break – circumstances in RL have been tough over the past couple of months – so I hope you enjoy! And please forgive the absolutely ridiculous premise of the story – I know this kind of thing has been done a million times before in every fandom but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone! Thank you x

* * *

Eve Lockhart eyed the progressively blackening sky with trepidation and glanced at her watch, a sense of grim resignation settling in her stomach as her mind interpreted the meaning behind the delicate hands of the dial. _I don't like this,_ she thought nervously as she tried to return her attention to the task before her. _ Not one bit_. The team had been searching the woods for close to an hour, the location a result of forensic evaluations combined with an anonymous tip-off but so far they had yielded nothing, and Eve was beginning to suspect it would prove to be an entirely fruitless exercise, irrespective of the number of hours devoted. She glanced around at the weary faces of her colleagues, their complexions appearing increasingly grey in the shadowy dusk of the fading sunlight, the previous levity in their conversation having long since vanished as the bleak reality of their ineffectual exploration evidently began to set in. _This is ridiculous_, Eve thought testily, brushing away a stray strand of chestnut hair from her eyes. _ I never should have agreed to this until the morning…._

She straightened decisively from her cramped squat, her hands coming to rest atop the angular planes of her waist and she took a deep breath, blowing it forcefully away in a futile bid to supress her frustration and anxiety.

"Can I just point out," the scientist announced irritably, "that starting this at near-on four o'clock in the depths of winter was really bloody short-sighted. I'm still not clear on our timescales here."

Spencer Jordan laughed loudly, pre-empting a response from the other members of the group. "Oh, come on, Eve," he teased lightly. "I thought you were supposed to love all this outdoorsy crap?"

"Not when the ambient temperature is barely above a degree." Eve sighed heavily and turned towards the Unit's leader, her expression solemn. "I _did_ warn you about this, Boyd."

Peter Boyd rose to his feet, his superior height giving him the advantage as he stared down at her, his gravelled tone reverberating stonily into the oppressive silence of the increasingly darkening woods. "So what's the problem? We're properly suited and booted, aren't we?"

"More or less."

"Well, then. Let's get back to it and stop wasting whatever time we've got left."

"Here, here," Spencer agreed, stooping back down to survey the soil. "I've got a pint with my name on it which I've got no intention of disappointing."

Eve held her ground and shook her head. "You're both missing my point. We're going to be losing daylight soon and it's a good two hour walk back to the cars."

Boyd narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I'm well aware of that."

"Are you?"

Grace Foley held up her gloved hands in a gesture of placation to halt the mounting hostility, her breath billowing softly from her mouth in white plumes as she spoke. "Look, no-one's to blame here. If we'd left before the results came in we'd have been searching blind…."

Boyd gave a snort of contempt. "We might as well have been, for all the good those fucking results have done us."

"I warned you they wouldn't necessarily be definitive, Boyd," Eve cut in firmly. "In fact, if you recall, my exact words were: 'This pollen could have come from a number of locations in this area and…'"

"But combined with the other informative we received this was as good a place to start as any," Spencer replied with a shrug. "It was always going to be a long shot."

"It's far slimmer odds than that, Spence," the scientist continued, her dark eyes fixed determinedly away from her colleague and towards her boss. "My advice was to have the samples analysed by someone with more specific expertise."

"We needed a quick answer, Eve, just a bloody ballpark estimate," Boyd answered evenly. "The fine detail can wait until later."

"So you just thought we should chance it?"

"Come on; you know as well as I do how long those specialised tests take. We could have been talking weeks rather than hours."

"I understand that."

"So what's your point?"

"My point is we should have left this search until tomorrow."

"And risk losing vital hours on this case?" Boyd's glare was intense. "We need to find something that categorically puts him in the frame, Eve. I don't want to have to explain to another victim's family that we had a solid lead we just couldn't be arsed to follow up on right away."

"Boyd…." Grace's tone was one of warning, her gaze unwavering as he held up a finger to halt her continuing address. "That's not what she said."

Eve gave a frustrated sigh though she flashed the older woman a grateful glance. "Not even remotely."

Boyd made a gesture of irritated dismissal. "We're at a pivotal point in this investigation and if you can't see that then you…."

"Not pivotal enough that twelve more hours would've made a difference. And certainly not pivotal enough to risk spending the night out here."

Grace frowned deeply at the scientist's determined statement as it settled in the sudden silence, instinctively pulling the raspberry wool of her coat tighter about her slender frame. "Is that what we're talking about, then?" she asked quietly, unable to prevent the nervousness that had snaked about her tone.

Eve nodded darkly. "That's what I'm worried about, yes."

Spencer gestured derisively. "No chance. If we start walking back now…."

"We'll be stumbling around in pitch black conditions in an hour, an hour and a half at the most."

"We've got torches…."

"It's not safe, Spence." Eve's insistence was adamant. "I'm serious."

"And it's safer to bed down and freeze to death, is it?"

The scientist sighed dejectedly. "I've got a tarpaulin in my kit. It's a bit rudimentary but we might be able to fashion some sort of tent…."

"No." The policeman's voice was resolute. "No fucking way, Eve."

"What's the alternative?"

"I've told you…."

"That's enough," Boyd interrupted sharply, decisively, instantly drawing the group's attention in his characteristically brusque fashion. "Spence, get out your phone and call it in. Make sure someone knows where we are."

The DI frowned in presumptive irritation. "And then what?"

Boyd held the junior officer's gaze squarely. "We walk back as far as we can while the light holds…and then we do what Eve has suggested, alright?"

Spence looked aghast. "You're not being serious…."

"Alright, Spence?"

The younger man blew out a disapproving breath but retrieved his mobile from his jacket and moved away to press it to his ear, Grace raising her eyebrows quizzically towards Eve as the remainder of the group stood ever closer together.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" she asked the younger woman softly, raising an apologetic palm as Eve sighed dishearteningly. "Sorry. I know you wouldn't have even brought it up if you weren't."

"I just can't see another option," the scientist replied. "We left it far too late in the day at this time of year."

Boyd frowned menacingly. "You've more than made your point."

"I think we're just going to have to agree to disagree then, aren't we?"

"If you say so."

"Recklessly endangering this team, Boyd…."

The DSI gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Is that really what you think?"

Eve folded her arms across her chest. "I brought up my concerns before we even left the office, for all the good it did me."

"And I suppose you agree with her, do you?" Boyd addressed Grace with a thinly veiled accusation, his eyebrows raised in expectation as he awaited the inevitable.

The psychologist's expression was a haven of calm as she fearlessly held his gaze. "Did I say that?"

"It's written all over your face."

She smiled crookedly. "Let's not get into another debate about mind-reading, shall we?"

"For God's sake." Boyd threw up his hands in frustration and made to turn away, his body halting of its own volition as Grace grasped resolutely at his forearm, her grip firm through the layers of their clothing.

"If we're going to do this," she told him unwaveringly, though her eyes had also flickered towards Eve, "then we need to leave the bickering at the door, okay?"

The scientist grinned widely. "Not sure we're going to _have_ a door, Grace."

"You know what I mean."

The younger woman sobered sheepishly and nodded. "I do."

"Okay, Boyd?"

He looked at her for a long moment, the fact that she was still holding tightly to his arm vaguely amusing him as he pondered briefly just how easily she was capable of exerting her control. "Fine," he muttered gruffly, inclining his head in the direction from which they had previously walked as he noted Spencer beginning to approach the group anew. "Let's get going, shall we?"

The two women exchanged wry glances as they fell into step behind the DSI, Grace smiling gratefully towards Spencer as he pointedly took up the rear in a grudging, stony silence.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chap. 1

**A/N**: Again fair warning about the predictability of this...but I hope you enjoy none-the-less! ;)

* * *

"Well," said Grace brightly once the group was assembled around the flickering heat of their hastily constructed fire, their faces suffused with softly gleaming reflected light. "At least it's not raining."

At her side, Boyd groaned disapprovingly and shook his head, shifting uncomfortably atop the bitter chill of the soil which had begun to seep into his bones. "Right, Grace. All we need are a few bottles of wine and our Friday night is complete."

She tutted good-naturedly and nudged his arm with her shoulder. "It's called looking on the bright side."

"Well, don't. There _is_ no bloody bright side."

"We've got a tent, haven't we?" Eve piped up from across the breadth of the fire, her dark eyes glimmering in the dusky orange glow, her arms wrapped tightly about her folded knees. "Quite a good one, if I do say so myself."

Boyd exhaled forcefully. "I think that's a contradiction in terms, Eve."

"What?"

"'Good tent'. They're the most pointless fucking things on the planet."

Grace chuckled softly. "Don't tell us you were never a Boy Scout, then?"

He gave her a warning sideways glare. "Are you taking the piss?"

"Building fires, climbing trees, all that male bonding stuff…."

He grinned roguishly, his expressive eyes twinkling in the semi-darkness. "I was more interested in the other, Grace."

The psychologist rolled her eyes and took a breath to reply but was interrupted by Spencer from his position at Eve's side, his wide smile one of indulgent reminiscence. "Too damn right," the younger man said rakishly. "I used to wonder why all those kids in the Scouts didn't have better things to be doing with their time."

"Ah, but you're grateful I was a Girl Guide now, aren't you?" Eve replied teasingly. "Otherwise you'd be facing the prospect of hypothermia in about six hours' time."

The DI gestured dismissively, his wolfish grin broadening. "Apples and oranges, Eve. I never had a problem with the Girl Guides."

"No, but I bet some of them had a problem with you."

The group laughed heartily, their joviality a marked contrast to the ominous stillness of the obsidian woods and it was several moments before they gradually sobered once more, the crackling of the fire as it consumed the dry wood within its ravenous belly the only sound beyond the chirp of insects, the occasional call of a prowling animal.

"So, I don't suppose you've got any blankets secreted away in your kit as well, Eve, do you?" Grace asked eventually, her tone edged with futile hope though her smile was one of grim, pre-emptive acceptance.

The scientist's expression was rueful. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We'd be in a lot more trouble if it wasn't for the tarpaulin, at any rate."

"We would," she agreed carefully. "But it still might not be enough."

Boyd narrowed his eyes, watching the contortion as it danced briefly across the younger woman's lithe features, the soft sigh emanating from her lips. "Eve?" he prompted gruffly, his voice dropping unbidden to a lower, huskier register.

Eve sighed once more before replying, one hand reaching to her neck to ease the acute tension pervading her muscles, painfully discomfited by the notion she felt compelled to bring forth. "The thing is," she enunciated slowly, "human physiology is very sensitive to temperature. Lose even a couple of degrees from your core and you're talking a massively increased risk of hypothermic shock."

"Which I'm assuming can be fatal?" Grace asked with an involuntary shiver, at once grateful for the warmth radiating from the solid body at her side, the reassurance of his thigh pressed flush against hers.

"In less time than you'd imagine," said Eve flatly. "Even healthy young individuals can die within a matter of hours…."

"Ah. So being the wrong side of sixty is most definitely a problem, then."

The scientist was unable to prevent a smile at the older woman's light-hearted tone, the brief sparkle of playfulness filtering through the expanse of her sapphire eyes. "Only in this particular case," Eve responded momentarily, feeling herself begin to temper once more as the severity of their situation reasserted itself. "We need to take the appropriate steps to reduce our overall risk."

Grace grimaced as she absorbed the hesitant embarrassment underwriting the other woman's tone. "Why do I have an awful feeling I know what you're about to say?"

Eve released a constricted breath and leant forward earnestly. "I'm not for a minute suggesting this is realistic in our particular scenario…but you've all seen the disaster films where people conserve body heat by…."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Boyd interrupted irritably, consternation rippling hotly from his body in a wave. "It's not like we're in the middle of the bloody Arctic."

"No, but as I said; we're all of us hugely sensitive to even the most seemingly insignificant drop in temperature."

"Let me just get this straight," Spencer spoke up, disbelief colouring every word as each fell from his lips. "You're talking about the four of us….stripping naked and…."

Eve raised a swift palm to halt his advance. "It doesn't necessarily have to be naked. I mean, that's the ideal, the most efficient way for our bodies to regulate their temperature and conserve warmth, but even just some skin-to-skin contact would in all likelihood be beneficial."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, whatever we're each comfortable with, really. We take off as many layers as we feel able to and we use the clothing as blankets to hold in as much of our combined radiated heat as we can." She shrugged her slim shoulders. "It's basic thermodynamics, I'm afraid…and it may actually make all the difference to how well we fare tonight."

The group fell silent for a long moment as each absorbed the scientist's words and the implications behind them before Boyd spoke again, the rugged planes of his face half bathed in inky shadows. "So, what you're saying," he began determinedly, his jaw set in a rigid line, "is that we need to look at this from an entirely pragmatic perspective. Forget about the social constructs and…."

"Exactly. We can't really afford the luxury of embarrassment…."

"Or mortification," Grace added pointedly, closing her eyes briefly before opening them to meet Eve's kindly sympathetic gaze.

"I know it's weird…," she replied gently.

"It's way past weird," Spence intoned vehemently, his handsome features drawing into a fierce scowl. "It's the bloody Twilight Zone."

The scientist sighed. "If there was any other way, Spence…."

"There is: packing up now and making a run for it."

"Don't even think about it." Boyd's voice was laced with a dogged warning. "I don't want to have to tell your mother you died as a direct result of being an arrogant arsehole."

The DI raised his eyebrows in challenge. "That's a bit OTT, boss, even for you."

"It'd be the truth. Do you really think Eve would have recommended this if…?"

"The point is," Grace broke in gently to dampen the rising antagonism, "that we're not even going to go there because we're all staying put; alright?"

"The risks of doing anything else are astronomical," Eve added firmly with a sigh before Spencer could make a comeback. "I don't like this any more than the rest of you. But biology is biology, at the end of the day. We're simply not well adapted to cope with extremes in temperature."

"So it's literally the case that if we don't do this we freeze to death?" Spence enquired resignedly.

"It's a distinct possibility; yes."

"Do I need to repeat myself about being an arrogant arsehole?" Boyd demanded dryly.

Spencer coolly held his boss' gaze. "No."

"Good. So we're all agreed, then."

The younger man inclined his head. "If we are….we need to at least establish some ground rules."

"Such as?" Eve asked, frowning.

"Such as the fact that, hypothermia or not, there is absolutely no way I'm sleeping naked next to Boyd."

Grace chuckled throatily though she raised a palm, ignoring the subtle glare she could feel being directed towards her from the man in question. "I don't think any of us will actually be naked, Spence."

"Well, in any state of undress, then." Spence shrugged his broad shoulders unapologetically towards the older man across the expanse of the fire. "No offence."

Boyd gave a snort of contempt though his nebulous eyes were twinkling. "You know, Spence, the feeling is entirely mutual on that score."

The group laughed briefly, each grateful for the sudden and dramatic thaw in the atmosphere, before Eve spoke again, her tone one of wicked amusement as she suggested, "How about boy-girl-boy-girl, then?"

Spencer grinned widely. "As long as I get to be the boy in that girl sandwich, Eve, I'll be as happy as Larry."

Boyd laughed loudly in riposte, feeling Grace's corresponding mirth in the quivering of her shoulders. "I _could_ just pull rank…."

"Rank's irrelevant," the younger man shot back smugly. "You snooze, you lose, buddy."

Eve gave a husky chuckle, watching in amusement as Grace's forehead dropped to her knees in barely contained hilarity, Boyd's deep laughter at her side echoing brazenly about the watchful trees. "And I don't suppose Grace or I get a say in any of this, do we?" she asked in weary resignation

"Nah," Spence replied mischievously, reclining back against his palms. "We're reverting to the laws of the wild where the men dominate and the women meekly obey."

"Hm." The scientist narrowed her eyes in mock irritation. "Interesting how this particular meek woman was the one who built both the tent and the fire."

Boyd gestured dismissively. "Though obviously we were then acting in a supervisory role."

"Oh, obviously."

The team laughed lightly before Grace spoke once more, trying and failing to supress a shiver as a blast of icy air rippled across the bare branches of the trees and engulfed the huddled figures seated about the slowly dwindling fire. "Well, far be it from me to break up this unconventional party," she began wryly, a crooked smile playing across the fullness of her lips, "but it's getting colder by the minute out here…."

"It's true," Eve replied, her sombre and business-like tone suddenly resurfacing. "All joking aside, we should probably get inside the tent before the fire dies completely."

Spencer grinned boyishly and rose slowly to his feet. "You see, Boyd?" he said triumphantly, as he brushed the remnants of soil from his clothes. "Neither of them can wait to get between the sheets with me."

"It's called 'desperation'," the older man countered swiftly. "I think they'd get into bed with the Elephant Man right about now if they thought he could stop them from freezing to death."

"What's all this 'they'?" Grace demanded shrewdly, sharing a look of solidarity with Eve. "Don't tell me you're taking this me-Tarzan-you-Jane thing seriously?"

"Why not? You don't want to die from exposure, do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Well, there you go, then. Let's all go and get our kit off."

The psychologist laughed despite herself and accepted Boyd's proffered hand, allowing him to haul her roughly to her feet and willing away the palpable increase in her heart rate as her palm fell instinctively against his chest, the result of a surge in forward momentum. She inhaled sharply, the cold air assaulting her lungs as their eyes locked briefly before she forced herself to pull away and head unenthusiastically towards the ramshackle structure that was to represent their night time abode.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chap. 1

**A/N**: Thank you all so much for your lovely comments so far! This chapter is a little short but I hope you enjoy it none-the-less! :)

* * *

Grace shifted uncomfortably onto her back beneath the thick pile of discarded clothing and released a shuddering breath into the charcoal darkness, the tension coiling in her body preventing even the merest illusion of sleep, her mind flickering unerringly over the events of the previous few hours. There had been little conversation as the team had moved into the makeshift tent, any residual glib comments ebbing rapidly away as they began to warily, reluctantly undress. She smiled ruefully into the blackness as she recalled the deliberate, relentless focus on their own individual de-robing, each colleague behaving as if in a bubble of isolation as they removed layer upon layer without raising their eyes to survey their companions. Finally they had arranged various vestments on the ground, reserving the thicker outer garments for blankets before they had crawled gratefully between them, various dialogues beginning anew amidst the safe knowledge that any unwillingly naked flesh was now carefully concealed beneath a swathe of insulating fabric.

In the end, as she had predicted, none of them had been quite uninhibited enough to shun every last item of clothing. For her part, Grace had settled for the retention of her satin slip and underwear, gritting her teeth against her rising anxiety as she quickly rolled her woollen tights down the lengths of her shivering legs before she could convince herself otherwise. Now, beneath the reprieve of the substitute blankets, she was immensely grateful for the decision and the warmth emanating from the dependable male bodies to either side of her, though she found she was unable to entirely banish the stubborn chill from her blood.

"For God's sake, go to sleep, will you?" a deep voice from her right side grumbled irately, his body shifting beside her with a barely concealed grunt, and causing Grace to smile unbidden into the shadows.

"Speak for yourself," she responded lightly, her smile broadening as he blew out an exasperated breath against the icy stillness.

"And how do you propose I do that with you tossing and turning like some sort of woman possessed?" he demanded loudly.

"Don't exaggerate, Boyd…."

"I'm not. Two bloody hours you've been fidgeting…." He paused abruptly, evidently considering a possible cause. "Are you cold?"

Grace sighed softly, silently debating the extent of her honesty, the deep chill relentlessly tracking the lengths of her bones despite the radiated heat of her bedfellows. "I'm fine…."

Boyd forced another irritated lungful of air from his chest and reached towards her, his mind fixed firmly on determining her truthfulness as his fingers sought the bare skin of her arm within the obsidian pitch of the space between them. She inhaled sharply as he inadvertently brushed the covered swell of her breast, arousal flashing hotly through her body at the glancing accidental touch of his hand, and she felt herself tense, relief flooding her as she heard him curse, his arm swiftly withdrawing.

"Sorry," he muttered in a gravelled undertone, clearing his throat roughly to assuage the involuntary husk that had coated his vocal chords.

"I'm going to assume you were reaching for my arm," she remarked dryly, surprised by the even timbre of her voice, the speed of her apparent recovery despite the still-desperate pounding of her heart.

"Well, of course I bloody was!" Boyd's indignation was fervent. "Christ, Grace, I'm not so damned hard-up that I…."

"To check if I was lying?" she interjected quickly to curtail his incoming tirade though she felt herself flinch at his vehemence, an odd constriction twisting painfully in her stomach.

"Were you?"

She paused for a split second before conceding, "Maybe a bit."

He gave a weary sigh and reached atop his body to pull his coat closer towards her, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of her shoulders as he tucked the garment snugly around her frame. "Okay?" he asked gently, his breath warm against her face as she fought an almost irrepressible urge to shiver at his proximity.

"Thank you," she murmured eventually, instantly missing the heat of his body as he shifted away once more.

Boyd gave a cavalier snort. "It's entirely a self-preservation thing," he said lazily. "I don't want to read 'Senior Met Detective questioned after OAP dies from hypothermia' in the papers tomorrow."

Grace smiled playfully into the darkness. "I can't exactly imagine that being the headline in The Telegraph, can you?"

"Red tops, Grace. Come _on_."

"Ah." The psychologist felt her grin widen. "Don't tell me you've finally dispensed with pretention, then."

"I just don't give a shit anymore. If I want to buy The Sun then I will."

"For the top-quality journalism, of course."

He chuckled softly at the jovial sarcasm of her tone. "It was a 'for instance', Grace. I just meant I'm too bloody old and jaded to care which paper my status dictates I should read, that's all."

"Well, good," she replied easily, taking a breath to address him further before he spoke once more to prevent her.

"Anyway, whatever the rag, I don't want to have to deal with the fallout. So just make damned sure you don't freeze to death, alright?"

Grace smiled anew into the inky gloom. "I'll do my best."

"Good."

"Sleep well, then."

He tutted with reproach. "You're hilarious."

"I'd make a comment about our advanced age…"

"'_Our_'?"

"…but I wouldn't want to rub salt in the wound given the fact that our significantly more youthful colleagues don't seem to be having any problem whatsoever on that score."

"Bastards," he intoned misanthropically, causing her to chuckle softly.

"Good night, Boyd," she told him firmly, rolling over with a groan onto her side and trying to ignore the insidious frigidity of the unyielding ground beneath her body, the simultaneous torture of Boyd's painfully real presence achingly untouchable mere inches away.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chap. 1

**A/N**: Just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story so far - I really do appreciate it! :) x

* * *

Grace awoke with a start, her heart pounding wildly in panic before her mind recalled where she was, and she took a centring breath to temper the surge of adrenaline, shivering as her body remembered the lack of clothing, the woefully inadequate blankets woven across her limbs. She frowned into the thick layer of darkness as she became aware of the ominously cold space upon the frozen ground next to her, a wave of fear tightening about the edges of her heart and instinctively she reached out to confirm her suspicions, struggling onto her side and then to her feet before her better judgement could reassert itself.

She blinked further awake as she stepped shakily from the shelter, the recently renewed fire the only source of light in the otherwise pitch-black night, and she pulled her hastily-donned outer layer closer about the planes of her body to assuage the icy tendrils of frozen air that were threatening to engulf her.

"What are you _doing_ out here?" she asked quietly, addressing the familiar figure who was pacing rapidly in close proximity to the comforting warmth of the fire, the tension radiating from his posture causing further concern to ripple through her as she took another tentative step forwards.

"My…fucking back," Boyd ground out through gritted teeth by means of explanation, his palms rubbing firmly at the offending source of pain as he continued his agitated pacing, swearing further beneath his breath as the sensation intensified into an agonisingly twisted knot.

"Ah; I know the feeling." Grace's voice was at once brimming with complicit understanding and she gave a sympathetic smile. "You okay?"

He stopped moving briefly to fix her with a disparaging gaze. "Do I look it?"

Her lips quirked teasingly, a mischievous glint flickering across her irises in the soft light as she pretended to deliberate her answer. "I've seen you looking better."

"Piss off," he growled irately, resuming his irritable stride and ignoring her as she began to chuckle softly. "Christ, Spence was right. We should have just taken our chances and started walking…."

Grace's smile broadened. "I won't tell him you said so."

"It's the fucking pain…."

"Meaning I shouldn't believe a word that comes out of your mouth?"

"Meaning that I'm not responsible for what I say right at this particular moment in time."

"Are you ever?"

"Grace…," he managed with a weary groan. "For God's sake, give me a bloody break, will you?"

Grace approached him with an apologetic smile and held up a palm. "Just…stop for a minute," she told him firmly, sighing in resignation as he gave an abrupt shake of his head.

"I need to keep moving," he insisted doggedly, his stride lengthening to reinforce his words, trying and failing to supress a sharp intake of breath as the pain seared hotly beneath his ineffectual ministrations. "Shit."

The psychologist raised a serene eyebrow. "Want me to leave you to it, then?"

"Yeah. Leave me to swear my head off to the squirrels and the fucking bats and whatever the hell else lives out here in this shithole."

She laughed throatily. "Or you could stop being so deliberately cussed and follow me over there."

"Why?"

"I'm not doing the toddler thing, Boyd. Just come with me, will you?"

He frowned darkly at her with suspicion, though he found himself intuitively obeying her instruction, following her towards a nearby tree and leaning his weight against it at her command, his forearms connecting forcibly with the rough, jagged lines of the bark. "Last time I checked, Grace, you weren't a medical doctor."

She rolled her eyes and took a step towards him. "It's common sense, Boyd. You need to stretch the muscles out…."

"What I need," he interrupted tetchily, "is not to spend any more time lying on that pathetic excuse for a bed in that bloody awful fucking tent…."

"Don't we all?" she replied curtly, dragging another breath into her lungs as she told him, "Lean forwards."

He grunted and reluctantly acquiesced, turning his head slightly to address her menacingly once more. "If this makes things worse…."

"Right forwards," she instructed assuredly, deliberately ignoring him and returning her attention to his current predicament, her hand rising to the small of his back before her mind could fully register her actions.

"Grace…," he protested weakly, the venom instantly vanishing from his voice, and he groaned as she began to press unrelentingly against his gnarled muscles, her palms caressing determined circles with an unexpectedly skilled dexterity. He flinched as she caught the epicentre of his searing discomfort, reaching round instinctively to grasp at her wrist.

"That's enough," he hissed sharply, his breath catching as she twisted easily from his grip to continue her ministrations.

"It'll help," she insisted evenly, reigning in a smile as he began to moan softly once more, his body beginning to surrender even as his mind continued to doubt.

"You're going to fucking cripple me," he complained half-heartedly, though he felt himself push backwards against her touch despite himself.

Grace chuckled gently and shook her head. "You're such a drama queen…."

"I didn't sign a disclaimer…," he began, breaking off abruptly and arching into her hands as he felt his tendons and sinews sigh almost audibly in relief, her skilful fingers coaxing the strain from each in a determined barrage of firm caresses. "Christ…."

"What did I tell you?" Grace's tone was one of triumph as she allowed her hands to fall reluctantly from his body.

"I'm sure I'm about to get the full lecture." Boyd straightened up, instantly missing her touch and then berating himself harshly for the folly, tentatively fingering the spot where hers had vacated and then giving her a conciliatory smile. "Thanks."

She shrugged, her sapphire eyes twinkling in the suffused light. "Someone has to take pity on you Southern softies every once in a while."

He snorted derisively. "Right. Because in Liverpool…."

"Warrington."

"Wherever. You camp like this all the time, do you?"

Grace's lips quirked into a teasing smile. "Northerners are just built from hardier stock, Boyd."

He took a step towards her, his hand drifting to the collar of her outer garment, his fingers tracing the familiar fabric as he raised his eyebrows in question. "Says she who appears to have stolen my coat."

Grace smiled sheepishly in guilty acknowledgment. "Do you want it back?"

He shook his head in easy dismissal. "No."

"Are you sure? It's freezing out here…."

"It looks better on you, anyway." His reply was curt but she smiled in his wake as he made his way back towards the fire, resuming the position he had occupied several hours previously and gesturing for her to do the same, a comfortable silence falling over them as they settled before the crackling flames.

After several moments Boyd took a breath to speak, a wry smile forming on his lips as he felt Grace hold up a characteristically pre-emptive palm to stem his advance. "If we're going to sit here," she told him resolutely, the words billowing from her mouth in a plume of brilliant white. "I don't want any guilt-ridden brooding or introspection, alright?"

Boyd groaned loudly. "I don't feel in the least bit guilty, Grace."

"Well, that's good, then."

"Don't tell me." He shot her a withering sideways glance, correctly reading her deliberately neutral response. "It'd be a pointless waste of energy."

"It would," she agreed carefully, though her expressive eyes had begun to twinkle impishly. "An _understandable_ waste of energy…."

"Oh, piss off. You're such a pain in the…."

"…but a waste of energy, none-the-less."

He sighed heavily, dramatically. "You're not going to blackmail me into anything here, you know."

"I don't think I need to, do I?"

Boyd heaved another groan of frustration and shook his head. "If the next words out of your mouth include the terms 'subconscious' or 'in denial', Grace, freezing to death will be the least of your worries."

She laughed softly, amusement filtering through her tone when she spoke once more. "I think my work here is done. If you're _using_ the words then on some level…."

"Oh for God's sake," he retorted sharply, his rejoinder slicing abruptly through her sentence. "I don't feel guilty…."

"Hm. There's something about the lady protesting too much, Boyd…."

"Coming out here was the next reasonable step in this investigation. I'm not going to apologise for that."

"How about for the timing?"

He exhaled forcefully, the pointedly gentle strains of her voice irritating the edges of his conscience, intensifying the gnawing sensation in his gut. "It couldn't be helped," he insisted eventually, though he was aware of the undeniable fallacy of his words, the hollow shell of the statement cocooned by the bitter stillness of the air. "Hesitating even twenty-four hours could have made all the difference to this case."

"I'm not disputing that."

Boyd felt his head snap around of its own volition to face her, his eyebrows rising instinctively in surprise. "Really?"

"Of course not. No-one has a crystal ball in situations like this…and I don't think any of us would have forgiven ourselves if failing to act expeditiously had meant the death of another girl."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he regarded her, the subtle reticence of her tone enough to grate against his nerves. "Why do I get the feeling you're just softening the blow?"

Grace smiled fondly at his perceptiveness. "Because we've known each other too bloody long?"

"Go on, then," he replied stoically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Let me have it."

She sighed in sobering acceptance to collect her thoughts, the sound rattling through her bones and into the frigid air. "Your single-mindedness, Boyd…."

"It's called dedication." He stole a sideways glance towards her, the anticipation of their impending scuffle at once draining away and he managed a grim smile. "But I'm guessing semantics isn't going to save me here, is it?"

The psychologist held up a palm. "I don't want to waste energy in fighting. But you have to realise that Eve's concerns about all this were reasonable."

"And she has to realise that as the head of the Unit I make the final call."

"And hold the final responsibility?"

He gave a curt nod. "Of course."

"Which includes admitting when you might not have used the best judgement?"

He grunted defensively. "I expect my team to see the bigger picture."

"But not at the expense of their own personal safety, Boyd. That's my point."

He blinked, turning his head to appraise her, his voice unexpectedly raw against his throat when he spoke again, the question passing his lips before he could suppress it. "You don't honestly believe that I'd wilfully endanger you?"

She swallowed slowly, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "Me, specifically?"

He gave a deliberately dismissive wave though his heart was suddenly pounding at the notion, a myriad of emotion tracking the lengths of his veins. "As a collective."

"Not wilfully, no," she replied softly, his apparent aloofness slicing hotly through her gut though she forced the sensation away. "But it comes back to the single-mindedness thing. Sometimes you're so focussed on getting the right result that you lose sight of everything else."

He sighed, the breath leaving his lungs in a shuddering rush as he considered the accuracy of her statement. "It's not a deliberate thing…,"

"Oh, I know that."

"But you still think I should apologise."

Grace inclined her head thoughtfully. "I think Spence and Eve would appreciate it."

He raised his eyebrows questioningly, his voice reverberating through the breadth of his chest as he asked quietly, "And you?"

She gave a small shrug, breaking the intensity of their eye contact as she shifted her gaze towards the dwindling fire, suddenly intent on avoiding his scrutiny despite their close proximity. "I think we're a bit beyond that point now, don't you?"

"Grace…."

"Look, I know you, Boyd. I know that the driven, highly focussed…."

"Arsehole?"

"Your word, not mine." She smiled crookedly and nudged his arm with her shoulder. "I was trying to make a serious point."

"You don't need to. I'm fairly sure it would have made me blush."

Grace rolled her eyes and continued, "I know that the driven, highly focussed _person_…."

"For God's sake…."

"….that you are is completely integral to your sense of self. That trying to change that part of you would irrevocably alter the other parts as well…."

"And make me even madder than I already am?"

"I just mean that I accept it's who you are. Whether or not it happens to affect me personally." She smiled before he could take a breath to reply. "Just don't expect Spence and Eve to cut you the same amount of slack."

He snorted. "Heaven fucking forbid."

"Good. Now, are you going to add some more fuel to that fire or are we going back to bed?"

He grinned rakishly and raised his eyebrows, his smile broadening as she jabbed him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. "It's a tough decision…."

"You're very funny. Carry on like that and you can sleep next to Spence."

"Christ, that's motivation. Maybe I'll take my chances with the bats."

"Suit yourself." Grace shifted beside him, using his shoulder as leverage as she hauled herself to her feet and smiling as she felt him grudgingly follow suit several seconds later. She watched as his booted foot extinguished the receding flames before he fell into step beside her, trying not to notice the reassurance of his palm in the small of her back as he guided them back towards the shelter in the acutely oppressive blackness.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chap. 1

**A/N**: Again, my sincere thanks for your lovely reviews so far! Just wanted to say that there's a mention of the effects of chemotherapy in this chapter – now, from what I've read, I know that these powerful drugs can cause sensitivity to cold but I'm not sure how long-lasting the effect is. For the sake of the events in this chapter, I've assumed they're quite long-lasting but I apologise if this is incorrect – hope it doesn't detract too much from the story x

* * *

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Boyd's irascible complaint was thunderously loud in the eerie stillness of the tent, his voice echoing ominously against the rippling canvas of the tarpaulin as they surveyed the unwelcome scene in front of them.

Grace gripped tightly against his arm, fingernails biting into muscle through the soft cotton of his shirt. "Keep your voice down," she urged in a commanding undertone.

"He needs to move, Grace. It's either I shout loud enough to wake him or I go and kick him in the ribs; what's it to be?"

The psychologist gave a soft sigh, watching the steady rise and fall of their colleague's chest in the sharp torchlight as he lay across the expanse of the ramshackle bed, his long limbs spread carelessly in slumber, his frame engulfing the space such that Eve to his left was curled into a tight foetal ball. "I'm sure he's not doing this deliberately…."

"I wouldn't bet on it. He's not exactly used to sharing a bed, is he?"

Grace raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Are any of us?"

Boyd was calculatingly silent in response, suppressing his instinctive rejoinder and presently exhaling with a forceful decisiveness. "I'm going to kick him in the ribs."

"Don't you _dare_."

"Well, how the hell else are we going to get him to shift over?"

Grace shrugged. "Once we're in there, I'll just….gently roll him…."

"He weighs fifteen stone, Grace. At least. And he's a complete fucking dead weight."

"Well, we're just going to have to compromise, then. Or is the idea of sleeping that close to me simply too abhorrent to contemplate?"

Boyd held her gaze unwaveringly, relieved at the playful glint sparkling across her eyes in the harsh glare of the torch and he grunted in amusement, handing her the slender lamp and beginning to unbutton his shirt. "I'm not going to go there. Whatever I say is bound to drop me straight in the shit."

She laughed lightly, purposefully turning away as he slid the garment from his body, his trousers falling to the ground in quick succession and she drew a breath as her imagination exploded behind her eyes, anxiety gripping her anew as the reality of their imminent sleeping arrangements loomed agonisingly in her mind once more. She inhaled slowly, feeling the air circulate through her chest in a futile attempt to restore calm, and she paused for a brief moment more until she heard him clamber into the makeshift bed, shrugging his coat from about her shoulders and feeling the corresponding chill instantly infusing her synapses.

"Budge up, then," she told him stoically, amazed at the even timbre of her voice despite the roiling anticipation churning desperately in her stomach, the goosebumps prickling across every inch of her frozen skin.

"Last chance to kick him in the ribs, Grace."

She chuckled and shook her head, stepping carefully into the narrow space between her two male companions before slipping down beneath the blankets, arranging the final layer of Boyd's thick coat in an even distribution across her body and turning onto her side away from him. She felt the breath shudder from her lungs as she began to shiver, the spasms becoming increasingly violent despite her concerted efforts to control them and she bit back a sigh, frustrated and embarrassed by the betrayal of her body. _Oh, God….and I was doing so well…._

Boyd's voice was laced with concern as she felt him shift towards her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied unequivocally, forcing a reassurance into her tone she knew was at odds with her physical symptoms. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."

"Bollocks." His comeback was characteristically brusque, his hand reaching for her arm and this time successfully locating its target, his fingers jolting against her skin as he registered the significantly reduced temperature. "You're freezing."

She shrugged, the bitter words leaving her mouth before she could stop them, her teeth beginning to chatter against her will. "A left-over present from the chemotherapy."

"What is?"

"Sensitivity to cold. It's really not a big deal, Boyd."

He blew out an incensed, incredulous breath, manoeuvring closer towards her and sliding one arm between her shoulder and the ground, pulling her against his body and into the depth of his embrace, ignoring both her noises of protest and the insatiable doubts of his own mind as they flared hotly in technicolour against the contrasting ebony of their surroundings.

"Relax," he told her gently, the tension pervading her limbs making her brittle, rigid against the warmth of his chest and he shifted slightly to apply pressure to her arms with his hands, rubbing rigorously in strong lines in an attempt to imbue her with heat.

"Boyd…."

"This is purely pragmatic, Grace, before you decide I've totally lost it. You need to get warm."

"You're very sweet," she insisted momentarily, mortified by the steadily mounting desire beginning to ripple through her blood. "But this is overkill."

He grunted, continuing to firmly caress her bare skin in spite of her objection, his breath fervent against her neck as he demanded, "Why the hell didn't you say something before?"

She gave a slight shrug, feeling her shoulders connect with his chest and reinforcing once more their sudden and intimate proximity. "Because I don't need to be treated like china…."

"That's ridiculous."

"I mean it. I've been in remission for more than a year…."

"And, what?"

"And this is just an irritating legacy, that's all. It's never a problem under normal circumstances."

"Well, these hardly qualify, do they?" He released another frustrated breath. "For God's sake, Grace…."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I told you when…you were going through all that, that I wanted to be kept in the loop."

"I did keep you in the loop…."

"But you didn't think to mention this? Even stuck out here in the arse-end of nowhere?"

She sighed. "I told you, Boyd. It's just a side-effect, nerve damage caused by the drugs…."

"A dangerous side-effect?"

"Well, not as far as I know."

"But I'm guessing your doctors weren't exactly expecting you to be sleeping half naked in the woods in the middle of winter."

She felt her lips curve into a smile and she inclined her head in accession. "Probably not."

"So, get off my case, then, and let me get on with this."

Her smile became a throaty laugh, her body beginning to relax of its own accord as he continued to vigorously massage her arms, his actions stimulating her circulation and flooding her with warmth, arousal beginning to snake its way traitorously towards her centre despite her mind's brutal insistence that she maintain some semblance of control. Instinctively she reached towards him with her feet, her need to escape from the icy barbs impaled in her extremities outweighing her sense of propriety and she grinned as she heard him yelp in protest.

"For Christ's sake, warn a man before you do that," he grumbled testily, though he immediately began to rub her feet with his own, their limbs intertwining easily as the heat of his body suffused into hers in a comforting wave.

Grace sighed softly, caught between a gentle cocoon of relaxation and a spiralling torrent of desire, the undeniably sensual experience of being held against the reassuring breadth of his chest as his hands attended expertly to their task. The enveloping darkness allowed her the pretence of irreality, that the bizarre nature of their circumstances could excuse the uninhibited physical freedom that was completely at odds with their ordinary interaction. _It's like a moment out of time_, she rationalised silently, biting back a groan as his fingers lessened their pressure to trace delicate circles atop her skin. _ And it has to be if we ever want to look each other in the eye again….There's absolutely no sense in wishing for anything else…._

"Better?" he asked huskily after several further moments had passed, his lips in agonisingly close proximity to her ear.

"Much," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, and she turned her head slightly to address him. "I think that makes us even."

"Is that right?"

"Hm. A one-all score at half time."

He tutted disapprovingly, though his palms continued to move soothingly against the lengths of her arms. "Everything's always bloody football with you, isn't it?"

She laughed throatily, quietly thrilled by his persistent ministrations. "Not everything."

He drew a ragged breath, at once unable to quell the vicious pounding of blood against his skull, the stirrings of an organic reaction to the swell of her hips moulded against him in the gloom causing an odd combination of excitement and humiliation to coil uncomfortably in his gut. _Shit….Shit, shit, shit…._ Aloud he cleared his throat, forcing his voice to remain steady as he gently spoke her name into the obsidian air. "Grace…."

"What?"

She gasped as she felt his fingers slide deftly beneath her silken slip to caress the smooth curve of her belly, instinctively reaching for his wrist to still the tantalising motions of his hand, his name leaving her lips in a shuddering rush of hunger. "Boyd…."

"What?" The repeated rejoinder was one gravelled amusement as he felt himself suddenly lost in a fervour of intrinsic want, his better judgement forcibly cast aside as he nuzzled brazenly against her neck, the heady scent of her skin producing an answering response in his groin. "Fuck."

She took a juddering breath to reply, unable to prevent herself from angling her neck towards his searching mouth before feeling him freeze in his actions, Spencer's suddenly loud snort to her left jolting them both from their intense cloud of self-absorption and re-establishing a merciless sense of reality to counter their rapidly spiralling abandonment.

Grace was the first to recover, rolling regretfully onto her back and away from his embrace, instantly missing both his touch and his warmth. "Well," she managed eventually, willing away the agonising frustration, the bitter disappointment swirling acidly in her gut. "It's probably for the best."

He gave a grunt of disapproval, rocking his hips deliberately against her thigh. "Speak for yourself."

She reigned in a moan, his evident arousal, the first she had experienced in more than a decade, reigniting the lightning crackling in her blood. "You're incorrigible."

"Do you want to go down the 'ten year hard-on' route?"

She laughed huskily, incredulous at his admission, the raw honesty underpinning his words. _My God…trust us to wait for just such a moment before we…._ "I just meant…," She began quickly before she could complete the thought, breaking off and sighing as her mind wholly refused to process the authenticity of the previous few minutes. "Well…it's hardly appropriate timing, is it?"

He gave a mirthless laugh. "Is it ever?"

"Come on, Boyd. It's like being in bed with your children."

"Thanks, Grace. That's a mood-killer if ever I heard one."

"Well, that _was_ rather my intention."

He sighed heavily, allowing a gradually calming silence to descend over them before addressing her again, a sense of crippling doubt crushing his heart like a vice. "Do we just put it down to a moment's sleep-deprived stupidity, then?"

Grace was quiet for a long moment as she battled to re-establish the characteristic order to her thoughts, the interwoven strands of ingrained suppression and rational judgement threading ever more chaotically together despite her efforts and she drew a centring breath, frantically willing the return of her usual composure. "I think," she began slowly, "that this is all wildly out of context…."

"And then some."

"…which makes it difficult to categorise as one thing or another."

He gave a scathing grunt. "Is that absolutely necessary?"

"What?"

"The black-or-white thing. Haven't we always been more…?"

"Grey?"

"Well, haven't we?"

She sighed. "I don't know how to answer that. I'm not even sure…."

"For Christ's sake," he exhaled strenuously before she could vocalise her thoughts further, self-directed frustration gnawing at the edges of his stomach. "Aren't we too old for all this crap, Grace?"

The psychologist gave a soft chuckle at his tone, a surge of fondness washing through her at his typical idiosyncratic coarseness. "Which crap, specifically?"

"Well, obviously not the sex…."

"Boyd…."

"We're adults, Grace. Adults who've known each other for a very long time…."

"Right," she interjected firmly with another heavy sigh. "And I think that might be part and parcel of our problem, don't you?"

He was pointedly taciturn for several elongated moments, her words tumbling in a rush through his mind as he tried to make sense of his increasingly marred perspective. _Is she right?_ He mused silently, frowning gloomily into the darkness as he sensed the increasing tension in her body at his side. _Is it possible that we know each other too well, that we've moved beyond the point at which something might have been viable? Christ, I think we had our chance years ago…so why the hell has it taken until now, in this completely fucked up scenario, for us to even hint to each other that we…? Fuck it. I can't do this now. _Aloud, his voice was cuttingly accusatory as he asked, "I suppose you're going to want to talk about this properly at some point, aren't you? At length and until my ears are bleeding?"

She gave a gentle laugh, instantly settling him. "Well, I wasn't planning on the last part…."

"It's a given."

"But," she replied evenly, ignoring his jibe. "I actually think it might be beneficial to give it a while before we go down that particular road."

Boyd felt his eyebrows rise to his hairline, incredulity ricocheting through his bloodstream at her words. "Are you being serious?"

"Absolutely serious." Grace paused briefly and released a thoughtful breath. "This is such an unusual situation, Boyd….We need to process it separately before we even _think_ about discussing it together."

He exhaled derisively though he failed to completely eradicate the note of admiration from his tone. "You're always the damned voice of reason, aren't you?"

She laughed. "Would you _rather_ discuss it now?"

"God, no."

"Well, then."

He breathed out in a rush of frustration, the residual arousal flickering through his veins mingling uncomfortably with a lingering sense of guilty uncertainty, and her name had left his lips before he could engage the instinctive suppression. "Grace?"

She had turned on to her side away from him but twisted her head back in his direction, frowning at the darkening edge to his voice. "What?"

"I didn't…set out with the intention of…."

"I know."

"I really was just trying to get you warm."

"I know, Boyd."

"Good. So long as you don't think I'm the type to take advantage of a defenceless woman in the dark."

She grinned at the teasing lilt to his voice. "Oh, you're absolutely the type…."

He nudged her playfully with his elbow. "Come _on_…."

"…but luckily for you I'm hardly defenceless."

"True." He smiled, unable to prevent himself from turning towards her anew, relief settling across his shoulders as he felt the warmth now coiling in enticing waves from her slender body and he yawned lazily, the siren call of sleep beginning to edge into his eyes. "Wake me up at noon with a coffee and a bacon sandwich, would you?"

Grace gave a gentle snort. "I'll just magic them from my handbag, shall I?"

"Wouldn't be a bad way to wake up, Grace, is all I'm saying."

"Hm. I think this might constitute 'talking about it', don't you?"

"A coffee and a bacon sandwich?"

She rolled her eyes at the feigned innocence of his tone. "Layers within layers, Boyd. I know exactly what you meant."

He gave another exaggerated yawn, ignoring the surge of exasperation rolling in his chest, the perpetual impediment to their mutual honesty. "Whatever. Let's just try and salvage some sleep, eh?"

"Sounds like a good idea."

They descended into a strained silence, Grace tempering a sigh as she mused the ease with which the atmosphere between them was, and had always been, capable of shattering, of disintegrating within the blink of an eye. _God…one minute we're on the verge of a seriously misguided fumble and the next….The next, what? He tries in his ham-fisted way to tell me how he feels and, leaving aside the circumstances, I point-blank refuse to entertain it? Christ, a decade of being in love with the man and that's how I choose to react to the fact that apparently, unbelievably, he wants me too? _She released the pent-up lungful of air in an unrestrained rush, feeling him shift onto his back beside her. _I'm sure it'll all look completely different in the morning, at any rate, and once we've got some distance the rationality is bound to follow. We'll chalk it up to sleep-deprivation, hypothermia, low blood sugar, and we'll move on. The way we always do. The way we always have to. _Swallowing the sudden, aching lump in her throat, she forced her eyes to close, preternaturally aware that sleep would prove to be agonisingly elusive.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chap. 1

* * *

Spencer folded his arms across the broad planes of his chest, fully aware that disapproval was emanating from every pore of his body as he stood in the pitiful glow of the weak winter sunlight. Under the circumstances he had slept well, though in the harsh light of day he could feel a stiffness pervading his joints and muscles, but presently his mind was unconcerned with his physical condition as he stared unbidden at the scene before his eyes. _My God, those two bloody witches were right,_ he thought testily. _ All those years of the two of them bending my ear with gossip and they were bloody right after all…._

"Spence? Want to give me a hand?"

Eve's voice broke gratefully into his reverie and he turned to face her at the summons, at once acknowledging the slender arms loaded high with firewood, and he approached her instantly, relieving her of her burden and forming a loose pile at their feet before stepping back to watch as she spent several crouched moments teasing the reluctant flames into life.

"There," the scientist announced with satisfaction as she straightened back to standing, rubbing her hands together and revelling in the sudden, intense warmth radiating from her crackling creation. "Just a shame there's no bacon and eggs, eh?"

"Or coffee."

"A travesty of epic proportions," she replied with a smile, sobering as she glanced sideways towards her companion and feeling her brows knit together as she surveyed the proverbial black cloud swirling atop his shoulders. "You okay, Spence?"

The policeman gave a grunt of assent. "I'll be fine once we get out of these bloody woods."

"I know," she agreed, pulling her coat tighter about her wiry frame. "I'm thinking about billing the Met for my chiropractor's bills."

"I'm thinking about billing Boyd."

"Oh, good idea. Cut out the middle-man, and all that."

"Except that indirectly we're all paid by the Home Office…."

"…and so by the tax payer. Don't think there'd be too many happy constituents if they learned what it would cost to re-align my poor spine."

Spence grinned, though he was aware it was less than enthusiastic. "That bad?"

"I can't say it's the most comfortable night's sleep I've ever had, no."

The policeman inclined his head. "I'm not sure everyone would agree with you on that score, Eve."

She rolled her chestnut eyes. "Yes, I noticed how you spent most of the night snoring your head off."

"Did I?"

Eve smiled teasingly. "Don't tell me no woman's ever mentioned it before."

He gave a conciliatory shrug. "Maybe once or twice…."

"And let me guess; those are the ones who didn't make it past a week."

"Hey," Spence protested, deliberately arranging his features into a mask of pretend hurt. "You make it sound as though I'm a serial shagger."

"Oh." Eve's expression of mock disappointment easily matched his for fallacy. "There goes your reputation, then…."

"Anyway," he cut in firmly. "I wasn't talking about me."

"What?"

"In the good-night's-sleep stakes. You and I are most definitely the losers."

She frowned quizzically. "What do you mean?"

He gestured in the direction of the shelter, following her as she moved to obtain a better view and settling at her side as she stopped, an expression of complicit understanding passing across her features as she examined the scene he had been unwittingly transfixed by some minutes before. "Ah," she intoned lightly. "And herein lies the source of your barely-concealed discontent."

He sighed noisily. "They might as well have a big neon sign announcing what they got up to last night."

"Oh, come on; while we were only a few feet away?"

"Just look at them," he insisted with a grimace, "and tell me that isn't a post-coital position if ever you saw one."

"Well…."

"They're spooning, Eve. They're fucking spooning."

The scientist chuckled softly. "It doesn't necessarily mean anything. Some couples…."

"Some, _what_?"

She looked at him incredulously. "You're not being serious? Surely it's the worst-kept secret in the CCU, if not in the whole of the Met?"

Spence blew out a disparaging breath. "Gossip's about as reliable as Chinese Whispers. Especially amongst coppers."

"You mean you just chose not to hear it."

"Believe me, that was bloody impossible. Mel and Frankie…." He broke off and shook his head as the memories flooded through him. "It was their favourite topic of conversation, bar none."

"Hm. It's one of the reasons I always preferred working with men."

"Anyway, frankly I don't care if they're shagging each other senseless…."

"I think there's probably a bit more to it than that…."

"….but the idea of them throwing caution to the wind and…."

The scientist grinned. "Where's your sense of adventure, Spence? Of romance?"

"It's not funny, Eve. You weren't the one lying next to them all night."

"No," she conceded slowly, silently debating the wisdom of her proceeding words, "but…I'm a light sleeper at the best of times."

He turned his head to appraise her and raised his eyebrows in challenge. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning…that I was privy to parts of a conversation I suspect neither of its participants would ideally have wanted overheard."

"Oh, God," he groaned loudly, dramatically. "Do I want to know?"

"Well," she replied in amusement, a lopsided smile decorating her features. "That rather depends."

"On what?"

"On whether it would traumatise you to hear the words 'ten-year hard-on' tumbling from the lips of your boss?"

Spence looked aghast, deeply unwanted images exploding behind his eyes. "Of course it would fucking traumatise me! For fucking life!"

"Then, no. You don't want to know."

"He didn't actually _say_ that, did he? Verbatim?"

Eve gave a throaty chuckle. "Look on the bright side, Spence. It might mean you were right after all."

"What?"

"Well….it kind of implies whatever's been going on between them all these years has been strictly….platonic." She grinned impishly as a further sentiment occurred to her. "Kind of makes you feel sorry for the grumpy old bugger, doesn't it?"

Spence gave a determined shake of his head. "Not even slightly."

"Oh, come on, Spence. Ten years is a bloody long time."

The DI exhaled a breath of contempt. "You make him sound like a monk. What about all that bollocks with Sarah Levin?"

"Oh, that." Eve gave a dismissive wave. "A simple flash in the pan."

Spence rolled his charcoal eyes. "Is this where you give me the 'It's always been Grace' speech?"

She smiled widely. "I don't think I need to."

"For God's sake," he grumbled irritably, after surveying her sparkling, playful eyes for several seconds. "Mel and Frankie would've bloody loved you."

The scientist gave a mischievous wink. "Three's a good number for a witches' coven, you know."

"You'd have driven me round the bend."

"Or I'd have kept them in check," she suggested mildly, a contemplative expression passing across her features. "Let's face it, I've never mentioned this topic in the four years we've worked together, have I?"

"No," he admitted grudgingly at length. "I suppose not."

"And I'd be more than happy not to mention it again. We can all just retreat back into our little cocoons of denial, if you like."

"Nothing would please me more."

"Of course it doesn't change the reality of…."

Spencer raised his palms in protest to halt her mid-flow. "Look, Eve, I really don't want to think about it, okay? I'm perfectly happy pretending not to have seen or heard any of this…."

"A don't-ask-don't-tell thing?"

"Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"I suppose not…."

"Good."

Eve paused momentarily and inclined her head, a powerful need to vocalise her thoughts suddenly uppermost in her mind. "They deserve to be happy, you know, Spence," she intoned gently, surprised by the sentimentality catching against the edges her throat. "Neither of them has had an easy time of it over the last few years."

The DI sighed heavily, an intense flurry of emotion swirling unforgivingly between his ribs, and he felt his features begin to soften. "No, I know that."

She blinked, accurately reading a cadence unspoken in his words. "He wouldn't intentionally hurt her. I hope you know that's a given."

Spence exhaled noisily, his jaw set with steely determination. "I'd nail his bollocks to the wall. As he damn well knows. And that'd just be for starters."

Eve gave a soft smile, her head to one side as she appraised him. "You absolutely adore her, don't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted gruffly though without hesitation, clearing his throat to assuage the onset of embarrassment he could feel creeping into his cheeks. "Anyway...let's start getting our shit together and think about moving out. The sooner we're back to civilisation, the better."

The scientist raised an eyebrow. "Are you volunteering to go in there and wake them up, then?"

"Hell, no."

"Funnily enough, it's not top of my list either." She fumbled briefly in her pocket and retrieved a handful of change. "Toss a coin?"

Spence groaned. "Just so long as you can guarantee it's not one of those weighted jobbies."

Eve gave a gasp of feigned horror. "Spencer! As if I would."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

"I cross my heart. Now, let's get this over with, shall we?"

With another weary groan of recalcitrance, Spence chose a bronzed disc from her upturned hand and flipped it expertly into the air, willing away the heavy sense of dread as he watched it descend back towards his expectant, reluctant palm.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chap. 1

**A/N**: And so we've come to the final chapter! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, I really do appreciate you taking the time - hope this last installment doesn't disappoint x

* * *

_Three weeks later…__._

Boyd removed his reading glasses in frustration, watching as they clattered from his hand and along the length of his desk, the breath leaving his body in a rush of heated vexation. They had finally begun to make headway with the case, even to the point of interviewing their main suspect at tenaciously exhausting length, but ultimately every effort had been to no avail; before his eyes at present, in glaring black typeface, was confirmation from the Director of Public Prosecutions that, based on a lack of physical evidence, James Fall should have no case to answer. Boyd had tried persistently to argue in opposition, his gut utterly convinced of Fall's undeniable guilt, but the DPP's position was clear: the CPS would not prosecute given the current state of evidence. _End of fucking story._

Boyd sighed anew, the rattling of air from his lungs practically deafening in the darkened silence of his office. He had dismissed Spencer and Eve some hours previously, their crushing disappointment at the sudden collapse of the case almost palpable as they had stalked silently from the bullpen, expressions solemn. He had moved to encourage Grace's early exit at the same time, unsurprised when she had shaken her head and retreated quietly into her office, a contemplative air surrounding her in contrast to the violent slamming of his own office door against its hinges.

He stole a glance at her presently through the brutally clear glass of their mutual office walls, allowing his heart to swell with sensations he had spent the previous three weeks keeping ruthlessly in check. The memory of awakening with her in his arms, his nostrils aflame with her scent had tormented him, their unconscious, accidental sleeping position re-igniting the issue of their relentless and sustained suppression. She had been pointedly silent on the subject of their encounter, their interactions since that time wholly professional, and she had yet to insist on a conversation, though he was fully aware he could not escape the inevitable forever. _And do I even want to?_ He wondered, rubbing a thoughtful hand across his jaw. _Isn't it about time we had the balls to face up to the fact that for almost a decade we've been…? _He gave a gentle snort as he watched her begin to saunter towards his door. _Ah. Speak of the devil and she shall appear…._

Grace paused at the entrance to his office, leaning her weight against the wooden frame and raising her eyebrows as she gestured towards the papers still being gripped between his fingers. "I take it that's from the CPS," she opened mildly. "Further confirmation of what they said to you on the 'phone?"

He grunted in accession and tossed the letters onto his desk with an agitated flick of his wrist. "From the DPP himself, no less."

Grace's sapphire eyes twinkled impishly in the half light. "You've gone up in the world, then."

"Bastard," he breathed vehemently in reply. "He's not even willing to give us any more time on it either."

"Well," she intoned reasonably, moving fully into his domain and taking an uninvited seat on his couch. "At the risk of playing Devil's Advocate for a minute…."

"Oh, don't you fucking dare."

"We didn't have enough evidence, Boyd. Nothing that could've solidly linked Falls to those victims."

"We'd have got there," he insisted stonily, pushing the papers further across his desk in annoyance. "We always bloody get there, don't we?"

"Most of the time…."

"So, there you go. The book's been closed and Falls is free to do it again."

Grace inclined her head. "Of course, it's always possible he didn't do it, you know…."

"Don't even start. I can see the damned devil horns poking out from under your hair."

She laughed throatily. "Devil's _Advocate_, Boyd."

"One and the bloody same, in your particular case."

The psychologist raised a long-suffering and placating palm. "You've got to admit it's a possibility. However remote your gut tells you it is."

"It's just the fucking short-sightedness of it that gets me. We're not exactly talking minor burglary or shop-lifting here and still the CPS won't touch it…."

"It's the reasonable doubt thing. You know that as well as I do."

Boyd gave a contemptuous snort. "There_ is_ no doubt…."

"I think a jury might beg to differ. Which is why the CPS don't want the expense of a trial."

He cast her a scathing glance. "What is this: 'Basic Premises of Law 101'?"

She smiled innocently. "Why, do you need a refresher?"

"Piss off, Grace. If you've just come in here to needle me, you can get the hell out."

"Hm," she intoned evenly, pretending to consider her options as she narrowed her eyes. "I _was_ going to suggest I open that nice bottle of red I've got secreted away in my desk drawer…."

"That's bribery…."

"…but if you'd rather I left…."

"Oh, for Christ's sake. Go and get the bloody wine and shut your bloody mouth, will you?"

She smiled triumphantly and rose quickly to her feet, returning several moments later to find him reclining against the back of the couch, his eyes half closed, and she had to fight a sudden and powerful urge to press her palm to his cheek. With a gentle sigh, she sank to the cushions beside him and silently poured them both a generous sluice of Merlot, handing him the thin-stemmed glass before settling back to sip from her own.

"So," she said eventually, breaking the easy stillness that had descended as they both became lost in their own spiralling thoughts, forcing the words past her larynx despite the trepidation churning in her stomach. "Do you think perhaps it's time we talked?"

He groaned, his head falling back in protest against the rear of the couch, one eye opening reluctantly to survey her. "I'm guessing it's not optional on the tour, is it?"

She smiled. "'Fraid not."

He gave a dramatic sigh and raised his head once more, steeling himself for her forthcoming words. "Come on, then," he said stoically after several further moments had passed. "Let's get it over with."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "That's how you want to approach it? As an endurance test?"

"It usually is with women, isn't it?"

"Well, I wouldn't know, Boyd. Funnily enough I can't speak for the whole of my gender."

He gave a dismissive wave and tutted disdainfully. "Broadly speaking."

"I hardly think the term 'broad' could be applied to our situation, do you?"

Boyd grinned wolfishly. "I don't know, Grace. I like to think of myself as vastly experienced in that department."

She read his smug expression instantly, easily. "Meaning you've been there before, have you? In a tent?"

"Once or twice in my misspent youth. Could you honestly see me agreeing to camp if not for the incentive of a woman's company?"

Grace gave a slight shake of her head, frustration mounting behind her eyes at the blithe edge to his tone. "It's not the same thing."

"Oh, come on. I don't see why this needs to be blown out of all proportion."

"Well, go on, then. Why don't you summarise exactly what you think it was all about?"

He exhaled emphatically, deliberately placing his wine glass next to his feet and pushing himself away from the couch, suddenly needing some physical distance, and he leant stiffly against the edge of his desk as he tried to vocalise his jumbled thoughts. "I think….that we don't need to over-complicate it, that's all. People do unexpected things when they're removed from their normal environment, don't they?"

"They do," she agreed carefully. "Though probably not to the extent that…."

"As far as I remember it, Grace, nothing happened that couldn't be put down to extenuating circumstances."

She eyed him curiously, studiously maintaining her façade of calm whilst fully aware that inside she was crumbling. "Why are you being so defensive?"

"I'm not. I just don't see why we need to analyse this to the nth degree when in reality…."

"In reality, what?"

"…we can probably put it down to the fact that two old friends got slightly carried away in a circumstance way beyond the norm. Simple as that."

"Alright," she intoned evenly. "Tell me this. If we'd been alone in that tent, Boyd, or if Spencer hadn't reminded us that he was there…what do you think would have happened?"

His gaze was scathing. "Are you being serious?"

"Absolutely serious."

"You've got no excuse for being that naïve, Grace. None whatsoever."

She inclined her head. "You're saying we'd have slept together."

"Well, don't _you_ think so?"

"Yes," she replied honestly. "In all likelihood."

"So, there you go."

She looked at him incredulously. "And you don't think _that_ warrants discussion?"

"It comes back to the consenting adults thing again, doesn't it?"

"Boyd, we've known each other for almost ten years…and this has never been an issue before."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement and folded his arms. "You're telling me if the right situation had presented itself over the years we wouldn't have…?"

"Well, that's just the point, isn't it? We've had plenty of opportunity. For God's sake, we've virtually lived in each other's pockets for the better part of a decade!"

He shook his head. "I don't know what you want me to say, Grace."

"I want you to tell me why this happened now. Why in the most unlikely of circumstances you finally decided to express yourself."

"It's a two-way street. You've never exactly been very forthcoming yourself."

She sighed, acknowledging with an expression of chagrin the accuracy of his statement. "Maybe that's part of the problem. This…implicit expectation of where we each are emotionally."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Were we talking about emotion?"

Grace rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Not in so many words…."

"Right. We were talking about sex, weren't we, or am I missing something?"

She fixed him with an unwavering glare. "As mutually exclusive entities?"

"Or mutually conflicting."

"Oh, come on. I know damned well you don't believe that."

He gave a shuddering sigh, the bones of his chest vibrating against his shirt, and he looked at her for a long moment, feeling his defensive walls beginning to disintegrate as he took in the elegant lines of her face, the slender planes of her body, the almost tangible uncertainty battling against her tightly maintained composure. "Christ, Grace," he breathed eventually, running a hand roughly across his eyes. "The fact that we can't separate the two is what makes this so fucking…."

"Complicated?"

"Impossible," he countered softly.

She held his gaze, sadness rippling through her soul at the bereft insistence of his tone, and she tried in vain to swallow the ball of grief that had firmly gripped her throat. "While we work together, you mean?"

"Look, cards on the table, Grace: I think we both know if we could have screwed each other and walked away unscathed, we'd have done it years ago…."

"And to hell with the consequences?"

"Well, that's my point: there wouldn't have _been_ any consequences. We could've maintained an appropriate professional relationship in the office and then fucked each other senseless behind closed doors."

She smiled wryly. "You've got such a way with words."

"I'm a copper."

Grace felt her smile widen at his rejoinder and then slowly begin to dwindle as a protracted silence once more descended. "So, what you're saying," she began again at length, "is that keeping each other at arm's length has been the only way to preserve our working relationship over the years."

He blew out a sharp breath. "Which has been thorny enough at times, hasn't it? Without adding anything else into the mix."

Grace held up a palm. "I'm not disagreeing with you, Boyd…and I'm not sure I'd have done anything differently, given the choice."

"No?"

"Our…dynamic, for want of a better word…."

He pulled a face. "Please."

"…has been vital in how we approach investigations. I wouldn't have wanted to jeopardise that either, given how many cases we've managed to solve."

"So we've almost had an unspoken agreement."

"Mm. And somehow we've ended up here."

He sighed heavily, surprising her as he closed the gap between them and returned back to his seated position at her side. "It means we've really only got two options," he said throatily, running his fingers thoughtfully along his jaw. "Sweep what happened under the carpet and carry on as we always have…."

"Or?"

He looked at her intently, holding her sapphire eyes captive with his own. "Or we grow some balls and stop pissing about."

"Which brings us back to the problem of boundaries, doesn't it?" she replied sadly, the intensity of his gaze threatening to overwhelm her. "You said it yourself, Boyd: we couldn't separate the personal from the professional, and vice versa."

"Fuck it," he intoned decisively, eliciting a small smile from his companion. "Maybe we should just take the risk. Something we probably should have done years ago."

She blinked, trying to steady the battering of her heart against her ribs as she absorbed the potency of his statement. "And if it doesn't work? I think we both know there wouldn't be a way back from that."

"So, what are you saying, Grace? That we should wait until we retire?" He laughed harshly. "They'll be carrying me out of here in a box. You know that better than anyone."

"I just…," she stumbled, her words fading into a heartfelt sigh and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them once more to appraise him steadily. "You've given so much of yourself to this Unit, Peter…."

"I have," he agreed tacitly with a slight nod. "What's your point?"

"My point is…." She broke off and gave a soft, rueful laugh. "I'm just trying to make sure we're not about to make a colossal mistake, that's all. On either front."

Boyd grunted. "There's only one way to find out, though, isn't there? Neither of us has a bloody crystal ball."

"I know."

"You're trying to cover this from every possible angle and it's…."

"Over-thinking things?"

"It's pointless." He blew out a disheartened breath. "For Christ's sake, you'd think we'd both have learned from that Linda fucking Cummings disaster."

"It's just…."

"Life's too fucking short, Grace. How about that for a dose of reality?"

Grace felt her vision suddenly clear, the fear and uncertainty clouding her senses dissolving as she took in the man before her, finally allowing her heart to explode with the love she had kept so ruthlessly locked away for almost a decade. _Oh, my God, it's so simple. So utterly, utterly simple…. _"Boyd," she murmured quietly, a shroud of tranquillity settling gently about her shoulders. "Let's go home."

He raised his eyebrows in question, the certitude in her tone increasing the furious pounding of the blood through his veins. "Yours or mine?" he asked evenly, relief awash in his chest at her brilliant responsive smile.

"Either suits me." She felt her smile broaden as she looked at him. "Is that it, then?"

"For talking?"

She rolled her eyes at the definite glint in his own. "I actually meant…."

"Oh, Grace, for God's sake, I know what you meant.

She gave him a crooked smile, her eyes twinkling at the exaggerated exasperation in his tone. "This talking at cross-purposes, Boyd..."

"Don't start. You get just as much of a kick out of it as I do."

"Well, to a point. But if we're going to do this then maybe we need to be a bit less circumspect and a bit more..."

"We need to stop talking, full stop. We should have damned well stopped talking years ago."

Her smile was radiant, the joy emanating from her soul impossible to suppress as he shifted towards her, his fingers tracing the length of her jaw as the pad of his thumb traced delicate circles across her cheek. She gave a soft gasp as he closed the final few inches between them, his mouth caressing hers gently before capturing it more firmly, the years of stringently repressed desire falling effortlessly away as his tongue slipped easily between her hungry lips. They were mutually breathless when they parted several intense moments later, each drawing ragged breaths against pounding hearts, and Grace closed her eyes to steady herself, her craving for him re-ignited as he kissed her tenderly once more.

"Go on," he insisted throatily, pressing one final kiss against her ready mouth. "Get your coat."

She gave a silken chuckle, allowing his gruff sentiment to alight in her consciousness with an incredulous sense of disbelief. "Your place, then?"

He grinned boyishly. "If I'm on a promise, Grace, I'll even willingly cross the river."

"Then and only then?"

"God, yeah. There has to be a line drawn somewhere."

"Hm." Grace narrowed her eyes in feigned irritation. "I think I might be starting to regret this already."

He gave a cavalier snort and rose in a single fluid motion, holding out his hand and pulling her roughly to her feet as her fingers clasped his without hesitation. "I wasn't exaggerating about the ten-year hard-on," he told her intensely, his arms snaking about her waist to draw her fiercely against his body. "Now, for Christ's sake…."

"You're such a teenager at heart, aren't you?"

"…go and get your bloody coat, will you?"

She smiled broadly, stretching up to kiss him long and languidly on the mouth, gratification filling her as she felt him groan deeply against her lips. "I won't be a minute," she affirmed huskily, twisting reluctantly away from his embrace and moving towards the office door.

"You've got thirty seconds," he called after her, following in her wake and plunging his office into darkness as he enthusiastically extinguished the light. "After that you can forget about the luxury of my king-size bed and we'll just…."

"Seriously," Grace interrupted mildly as she re-emerged from her own office, her svelte frame enrobed in raspberry wool. "I don't want to have to get into a discussion about instant-versus-delayed gratification."

He groaned wearily. "Ten _years_, Grace. That's fucking delayed enough by anybody's standards."

She laughed loudly, rapturously, slipping her arm through his as they began to move towards the bullpen's exit, her heart almost at bursting point as she projected her tentatively hopeful thoughts towards the flickering, expectant potential of their future.

FIN


End file.
